The Nightingale
by QueenyLeAcH
Summary: Edmund was jipped a few somethings back when they were fighting the White Witch. Here's what he should have gotten.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own.**

**Note: My friend StarPrincessTally and I thought this would be a good idea. (So it's safe to call it a collab, I think. After all, a lot of the ideas were hers.) **_**Ed is the most awesome character in all of Narnia. (Lucy is a really close second.)**_

**Also, I rarely write in 3rd person... Just saying.**

The young king turned over in his sleep, too exhausted with worry and fatigue to think much of anything, let alone the day that would come next. His arms felt like jello, and his skin was itching of sweat from all of the day's training. He felt that his elder brother, Peter, had been unnecessarily tough on him. He was only eleven years old, for goodness sake! Yet, he still had to train like a full grown soldier. He should be out riding with Phillip, or bathing in the crystalline ocean that was right outside Cair Paravel's front door; but no. Instead he had to train for impending battle and sharpen his diplomatic skills.

Yeah, he was exhausted.

His eyes quickly shut out the light of the moon that leaked in through his open window and he fell into a deep slumber, the sound of a bird singing it's melancholy song just outside. No sooner had he let the darkness overtake him when a bright light blazed onto his eyelids. He tossed, trying to keep the light at bay. He wasn't ready to begin training again.

"My King, waken." A deep, booming voice said, effectively shaking any last hope of sleep from his thoughts.

"Please tell me there's a war going on outside and that's why you're waking me?" he groaned. The stranger chuckled and Edmund rose on his elbow in order to get a look at the figure. He was tall and lumbering, more of a tree trunk than a man, an illusion that was strengthened by the rust red hugh of his coat. His hair and beard were a snow white that caught the light and seemed to glow. Both hung loose around his torso. "Who are you?"

"Pardon me. I am Father Christmas, and I believe I have something for you. Something that is long overdue."

The young king raised one dark eyebrow at the mad, old man. "What nonsense are you going on about? It's the middle of summer."

The man chuckled again. "Why yes. Yes it is."

He looked out the window, the slight movement alerting Edmund to a brown sack that was sitting on the ground by the old cogger's feet. He pointed to it. "What is that?"

The stranger picked up the bag and thrust it onto one of the many wooden chairs the young king kept in his bedroom. Something inside clanked and jangled, much like a sword would, he mused.

"This is my bag of gifts, and there are a couple in here I've been saving just for you. I would have given them to you sooner so that you could use them to help defeat the White Witch, but you were unavailable at the time," he replied, making Edmund shake with the memories of what had happened to him while in the Witch's care.

The king shook his head, clearing out the morbid thoughts. "So what is it then?" he asked, excited.

The elder chuckled again, which was making the young prince very irritated. "This, my King, is a gift for you to use with wisdom and strength." He reached inside his bag and pulled out a long item wrapped in a crimson cloth, which he handed to the young king.

Edmund grasped the gift gingerly. He leaned back on his bed and began unwrapping it. At first he saw only a silver bird of some sort, then, as more and more of the cloth was peeled away, he saw the elegant half moon curve of a hand guard, welded seamlessly to the hilt of a beautifully impressed sword. Leafy vines curled around the hilt and partway down the scabbard of the instrument, the other half etched with runes. It looked more for decoration than for combat. Edmund took a chance to voice his opinions.

"Though it may seem flimsy, the metal of that blade is the strongest known to Man or Beast. You will not find another stronger."

The young king still looked apprehensive, but he unsheathed the blade, and examined it in the early morning light; the metal seemed to glow. "What is its name?"

"It is your blade. You alone reserve the right to name it."

"Then, I will call it Eltham" The blade began to glow with a magnificent light and the bird on the pommel began to sing. The song was so beautiful that the young king could feel tears entering his eyes. It was singing _his _song. All his sorrows and fears, all his hopes and loves and longings, every part of his past. When the luminescence died away and a lone sword was in his hand, the name "Eltham" etched on the blade.

"Quite the show," remark Father Christmas, for that was certainly whom Ed believed him to be.

"No kidding." Edmund sheathed the sword and placed it in the chest at the foot of his bed. He turned back to the old man. "Thank you."

Father Christmas smiled. "That's not all of it."

"It isn't?"

"Goodness no." He began to laugh merrily with a "Ho. Ho. Ho." Then he turned back to his bag and pulled out yet another package, this one much smaller, and, for the most part, square. "Here you go, my King."

Quietly, Edmund took the gift and set about pulling away the crimson cloth. His hand rubbed against the sleek texture of leather, which he saw was a rich shiny mahogany. On the cover there was a maple leaf relief etched with gold. He turned the volume onto its side, the width was close to an inch, the length close to a foot, and the head of a lion at the uppermost end, also in gold. "Whoa," he sighed. He snapped the golden lion-shaped clasp and cracked open the cover, enjoying the new book smell and crisp, golden edged pages. Inside, he found a quill attached to the front over with a leather buckle. He release the crimson plume, and a few of the gold flecks that dotted the feather fell to the ground.

"Quite the beauty, isn't it?" Father Christmas said.

"Yeah," he said in agreement. "Am I supposed to write in it?" Edmund returned the quill to its holster and put the book in his chest with the sword, waiting for an answer to his question.

The elder chuckled, "That is the point of an journal; however, that book is special. It will never decompose, or run out of space to write, nor will its thickness ever change, so whatever you write in it will be able to be read by countless generations."

"Amazing," Edmund gazed at the closed chest, longing filling his entire being. The urge to document the events over the past year becoming almost unbearable.

"My King," Father Christmas said, requesting the attention of the boy. "I must go now. My helpers won't be able to function long without me," he supposed grinning. "Best of luck in all your endeavors."

"Thank you," Edmund said with utter sincerity, standing. He reached out and shook the old man's hand.

"Goodbye, my King."

A flash of light under his door commanded Edmund's attention. When he looked back to wish the old man well, he was gone, without a trace. Edmund blinked. A knock resounded on the door. "Ay, Ed, time to get up. We're doing archery today," the High King called through the door, the news causing the Just King to groan, thinking of his new weapon. He wished dearly to take it out again and practice forms, but knew that he didn't want Peter to find out about it, or the journal, just yet. He wanted to keep the secret to himself. Though, he wondered why a nightingale, a bird that he had seen many times on the night of the full moon, adorned the pommel instead of a lion. He made a mental note to spend some time in the royal library later.

"Coming!"

**And there you go. BTW Google Documents has officially saved my rear. **

**So, you're all wondering why we chose the nightingale, right? Well, if we get 3 reviews asking for the explanation, then I will post why in a new "Chapter" (So to speak) **

**REVIEW... Please?**

**-LeAcH**


	2. Explanation of the Nightingale

**So, we got the necessary amount of reviews requesting an explanation as to why we chose a Nightingale for Ed's sword. **

**1. Birds were said to be the winged messengers between Earth and Heaven, the connection between Humans and God. A lot of the stories are about him finding that place in the world.**

**2. Nightingale's have a sad song, which makes sense for Ed because of his rough start in the series.**

**3. Because of their melancholy song, Nightingale's were thought to be evil and omens of death. They are in truth, beautiful creatures and not evil at all. Just misunderstood and maybe a little lost. (Sound familiar?)**

**4. Symbolic characteristics for nightingale's are of love and longing, both of which Ed truly craves. He has a good heart, which is often troubled and torments his soul. Because of his rough start, it would make perfect sense for Ed to look back on those times (and he does with Eustace in Voyage of the Dawn Treader)**

**So that's what mostly inspired Ed's decorations on his sword. **

**-LeAcH & Tally**


End file.
